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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25515388">No Shame</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/haikyuu_ukes/pseuds/haikyuu_ukes'>haikyuu_ukes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Masturbation, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:20:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,530</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25515388</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/haikyuu_ukes/pseuds/haikyuu_ukes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has had his soulmate tattoo for years, but it has always just been a dead and lifeless shrub. When it suddenly blooms into beautiful, colorful flowers that cover his entire arm, he is confused and honestly scared. He had settled on having a lonely life, but now his fate decided to change again. Who had fallen in love with Harry Potter? And even more than that, who hadn’t? Girls swooned over him for years, so who finally came around?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>128</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Bloom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Let it be known that I don’t ship drarry cannonically but goddamn if it isn’t the best enemies to lovers trope I’ve ever fuckin seen</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>      The feeling of hands across Harry’s body was something new and foreign, but somehow it was so distant and fuzzy. He couldn’t feel them the way that he so desperately wanted to. Something was pulling him down, down, down. It was pulling him away from this delicious touch and the person he sought to be so near. Soon enough he was falling, the touch of those calloused fingers so far away from him now, long forgotten. Now there was only the cold of the wind rushing by him. He could only hear the cries of distant voices as his body lost all feeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The Boy Who Lived awoke with a start. His dorm room was void of all of its normal habitants, and he was incredibly thankful for it. The last thing he wanted was Ron asking him about this bad dream. It wasn’t unlike the other bad dreams he had had since that day in the Forbidden Forest, but there was an unusual warmth surrounding it this time. Whatever it was, Harry obviously didn’t have time to think about it too much. Everyone being gone already could only mean one thing: he’s running late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Fucking bollocks.” The boy said, throwing aside his comforter. Not that anyone really cared if ‘Golden Boy’ Harry Potter was late. He knew that he could get away with pretty much whatever he wanted to, but he was genuinely tired of being treated differently. He, just like almost all of the wizarding community, wanted his life to go back to normal, as if Voldemort hadn’t even existed in the first place. But now really wasn't the time to dwell on that. Harry threw on his underclothes and then his robes, followed by his red and gold tie. Walking through the Gryffindor common room, he tightened it to look somewhat presentable, and headed down to the dining room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Harry cursed himself for not keeping a proper sleeping schedule. He had never been much of one to go to sleep or wake up early, and the war certainly hadn't helped in the matter. His dreams were almost never pleasant. They were filled with screams and death and bright green flashes from Death Eaters’ wands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     But, all in all, he had a reasonable excuse for staying up last night, even if he would have done it without one. His soulmate tattoo had changed, just before he went to bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>      At around eleven oclock the night before, a beautiful white flower with a bright golden middle came into bloom on his forearm. His tattoo had always been sharp spikes of green foliage, seemingly without any meaning or purpose. Now it was strikingly bold and obvious. It was shocking, and thrilling all at once! Harry had given up the idea of a soulmate several years ago. The leaves were always dull and lifeless, and he was confused as to why they had even appeared at all. He just assumed it was another thing that Voldemort had taken from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     But now there are vibrant and gorgeous flowers trailing from his wrist to his elbow! Some of them are simple buds, but there are several showing off their colors in their full glory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     What confused Harry, though, was who had fallen in love with him? And why had they only just done so now? Why had his tattoo appeared several years ago, only to change and grow this morning? What does a changing soulmate tattoo even mean? Surely it meant something, and he would have to discuss it with Hermione over breakfast. If he made it there in time, that was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Harry rushed down the stairs and through corridors until he finally reached the dining hall. He walked over to where Hermione and Ron were sitting, rushing as much as he could to avoid people’s prying eyes. He plopped down beside Ron, rushing to grab food and stuff his face before either of them, more specifically Hermione, started grilling him as to why he was late. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Of course, Hermione said what she felt about Harry’s lateness regardless of his attempts at diffusing the situation, and when he reached to grab his third bun from the basket in front of them she grabbed his arm, forcing his eyes to finally meet her own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Harry! You have to talk to us! We’re your friends and we’re here for you.” she said, her anxiousness about not only Harry’s lateness, but also his general state of being apparent in her voice. It was true, the dark haired boy looked terrible. His eyes were red and puffy from his lack of sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Look, I’m fine Hermione, it’s not even-” Harry’s thought was interrupted when she noticed something under his sleeve and turned his arm over, revealing the delicate blooms that now adorned his entire forearm. Both Ron and her eyes grew wide at the tattoo, knowing what it meant for Harry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Looks like you’ve finally, actually, caught someone’s eyes, mate!” Ron said, patting his friend on the back and looking rather chuffed at his friend’s ‘accomplishment’. The trio hadn’t known what to think whenever Harry’s soulmate tattoo came in and it was dull and lifeless several years ago. The worst of their fears was that his soulmate had somehow been killed or injured by the Dark Lord, and that Harry would be all alone forever. But, that luckily did not seem to be the case. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Harry yanked his arm back and covered it before the people around them could catch a glimpse of it, “Don’t make a scene of it, you two.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “This is so exciting, though! All of our thoughts were obviously wrong, but I’ve actually never heard of a changing soulmate tattoo. I’ll have to do more research, I suppose. I’ll head to the library and see the two of you after classes.” Hermione said, leaving Ron with a kiss on the cheek and an excited look at Harry’s arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Harry absolutely wanted to bury himself in the ground and never be seen again. He was tired of all of this commotion about himself after all these years, and just wanted to go on to have a normal life. He pushed back from the table and walked right out of the great hall. He stormed down the hall, looking for an empty room where he could just catch his breath and calm himself down. Eventually he came to a quiet corridor, and sat down with his back against the wall and his head in his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>      He had come to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t end up with anyone so long ago; had mourned the loss of whoever he should have been with, and moved on. Now the universe decided to play a cruel trick on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The hallway was deathly silent, the only sound Harry could make out at first was his own breathing, but once he listened closer he could hear the sound of someone nearby. They were obviously crying, their breathing was ragged and laced with sobs. Harry got up to investigate, and found that they were coming from a room that was a few doors away from where he had been sitting. He walked over to it, and opened the door slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    The crying stopped immediately, and from the corner of his eye Harry could make out a tall blonde figure in the corner. The room was bare of nearly all furniture, something many rooms in this wing tended to be. There were no lamps or windows to illuminate the space, creating a dark void where the light from the hallway didn’t reach. He took a few steps forward, stopping as soon as he recognized the man across from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “What do you want, Potter?” the strikingly blonde boy asked from his corner in the dark room. He emerged from the darkness ever so slightly, but the details of his face remained hidden by shadows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Malfoy, I didn’t mean- I just heard-” the boy stuttered, completely shocked at not only Malfoy’s presence, but also the obvious aggression behind his tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “And what exactly do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>that you heard?” he asked, wiping his face and trying to tidy his appearance, he was a Malfoy after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay,” Harry said, taking a few steps closer to Malfoy, his hand out to reassure him that he meant no harm. Although he only ever wanted to help Malfoy, he knew that his presence wouldn’t necessarily be welcomed by the taller male. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Well, listen to me,” Malfoy said, grabbing Harry’s extended arm and moving it out of his way, “I don’t need you to check up on me, or keep tabs on me, no matter who told you to.” He barked out, gritting his teeth. Then, as Draco went to push Harry aside, his eyes caught the tattoo that reached down to Harry’s wrist where he still held the other tightly. His eyes widened for just a moment, but then his features hardened and he threw Harry’s hand back at him. Stomping out of the room, Harry could hear the blonde wipe his nose once more as he headed towards the dining hall. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Budding Feelings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     Malfoy ran from the room as fast as he could, trying desperately to keep his emotions in check. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why did it have to be </span>
  </em>
  <span>me</span>
  <em>
    <span>? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     The previous night, Malfoy found himself in his usual state, depressed. Since the war, he felt like his life had been diminished to nothing, and that he was completely alone in the world. No one trusted him, all because he had taken the dark mark. What else could he have done? He had to protect his family, but no one cared about his motives. They all assumed he was desperate for power, but in reality he was scared. And his fear didn’t go away whenever the war ended. It continued to haunt him. Every time someone cringed when they saw him, every time he saw Harry Potter’s smug face. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>He</span>
  </em>
  <span> caused this. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He </span>
  </em>
  <span>is the reason my family has become outcasts.’ Malfoy thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He laid in his bed, reaching underneath to find bottles of fire whiskey. ‘Another night to wallow alone, in sadness,’ He thought, opening the bottle and chugging about a third of its contents. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     That night he sat alone, drinking, until his memory went hazy. He couldn’t remember taking out all of the photos of Harry that he had stored in a box, or the way he delicately looked at each one. All he remembered was crying while holding a news clip about him nearly dying to his chest, whispering about how desperately he wanted to hold Harry in that moment. Telling the article how sorry he was and how much he loved Harry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     When Malfoy had woken up the next morning, he felt like absolute shit. He was hung over, and even worse, haunted by the memory of him admitting how much he loved Harry Potter. He’d known the boy for years, forced himself to hate him and keep his distance, but deep down he knew that he wanted the wizard to be his own. He had managed to squash the crush that he had on the boy years ago, but now he wasn’t so strong. His emotions were still raw, but he couldn’t allow himself to wail about it in the dorms, so he left to find a more secluded place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Of course, that’s where Potter found him that morning, sobbing uncontrollably. Malfoy had to keep Harry away from him, so he snarled at him as best he could, until he saw the flowers blooming on the dark haired boy's arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     It had been a well known fact that Harry Potter’s soulmate was believed to be dead. Professional Wizards had diagnosed it as such almost as soon as they looked at the wilted leaves that wrapped around his forearm. But now they were bright and cheerful, and Malfoy almost wanted to look closer at them. However, he wouldn’t allow himself to do that. He still had a small bit of dignity left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      But, this new discovery begged the question, was </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one that made these white flowers take over the once dull tattoo? Was </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> supposed to be Harry’s soulmate? Had someone else fallen in love with Harry Potter overnight? Who hadn’t fallen in love with Harry Potter yet? He was the savior of the wizarding world for Merlin’s sake. Malfoy assumed that it had to be someone else. Why would The Boy Who Lived be destined to be his soulmate? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Besides, he didn’t have a tattoo yet, so he obviously hadn’t even caught Potter’s eyes. He didn’t care about some lanky boy with the dark mark, and that almost made Malfoy feel even sadder. Malfoy continued his sad walk, eventually finding his way to his first class of the day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Classes went by slowly, he kept his head low, taking routes where he knew that he wouldn’t run into Potter. He spent the next few days in hiding, stressing about upcoming assignments and deadlines. He owled in snacks to eat in the privacy of his own room to avoid any unwanted attention from Potter or his little friends. All he could do was protect himself from further embarrassment. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Potter caught him crying. And even worse, he caught him crying over the darker haired boy. The thoughts ran through Malfoy’s head over and over, how he loved this boy, but also how much he got on every last one of the blonde’s nerves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     After a few days, though, Malfoy began to get hungry. This snack food was surely bound to make him gain weight at some point, and he did not want that to happen. He decided to make his way to the dining hall for dinner one evening, arriving late so that hopefully he wouldn’t run into anyone on the way inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Just his luck, he sees a short, glasses wearing idiot sitting outside of the hall. Malfoy tried his best to duck his head and avoid detection, but Potter spotted him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Malfoy, let’s talk.” He said, walking up to the blonde with his usual confidence. It annoyed Malfoy to the very core. He allowed Potter to lead him to the hallway that they had been in earlier that morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Alright now spit it out, what’s your problem?” Malfoy said, his voice full of spite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I just wanted to be sure that you were okay,” Harry said. He was sincere in that, he felt something pulling him towards the taller male all day. Something was pushing him to make sure that everything was alright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Malfoy felt his chest tighten, thinking that the dark haired male actually cared for him. Then he remembered the flowers on the other’s arm and his temper flared. “Yes, I’m fine. I see you have got yourself a little lover there, huh, Potter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “You don’t know shit about that,” Harry’s own temper was beginning to bubble over. All he wanted was to make sure that the other was okay. He knew how hard the war was, how much it affected </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>involved. Besides, Malfoy </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> know anything about his soulmate tattoo, he couldn’t. Harry didn’t even understand it himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Well you should probably fucking sort that out, then.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Harry saw how upset Malfoy was becoming, and calmed himself down as best he could, “I care, Malfoy. I do. Shit has been hard since the war, and I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Oh yeah I bet it’s been hard for the savior of the wizarding world. The boy that lived has just had to deal with tragedy after tragedy, with absolutely no compensation! He’s all alone in the world; didn’t even get a soulmate! But I guess you lost the ticket to that pity party now. Just get out of my way.” The angry blonde barked out, angry and frustrated that Potter always got his way. He never had to do anything on his own, it just got handed to him. That’s what angered Malfoy the most, the fact that Potter had never had to make the hard choices that he himself had been forced to make. Potter’s path was always easy and clear before him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    This time, Harry caught Malfoys robes as he tried to walk past him. He looked the blonde male in the eyes with a look of sorrow and heartbreak. He knew that Malfoy had to be going through a great deal since the end of the war. Even before the war, things never seemed to be great.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Malfoy had to struggle to keep himself from showing his emotions; seeing Harry so vulnerable hurt somewhere he hadn’t felt in a long time. He stopped in his tracks and looked at the slightly shorter man in front of him. Without warning and for the most part without his own consent, his hand reached for Harry’s own, turning it over to see the flowers that bloomed from his wrist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Daffodils, huh.” Malfoy said, stars starting to align in his head, “Must be lucky.” The blonde’s eyes flickered back up to meet emerald green staring back at them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Harry chuckled, “I couldn’t even figure out what type of flower they were.” His unbusied hand moved the rest of his sleeve up as far as it would go, exposing more of the tattoo. Still some of it was hidden as the tattoo stretched from his wrist to nearly his shoulder, but several more beautiful blooms were now visible to the taller male. His long and slender fingers trailed along the stems and leaves of the flowers, until they came to the first flower. It’s petals were wide and soft, pure white. The center was a beautifully happy yellow, bright with pollen on the stamens depicted there. Malfoy only recognized them because of the garden his mother kept when he was a child. She loved them; was always bringing in bouquets of just the beautifully vibrant whites and yellows. She was named after them, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Harry let himself dwell on the feeling of Malfoy’s fingers on his skin, getting lost in the silver grey pools of his eyes. He tilted his head up ever so slightly, it was just a reaction of instinct from the gentle touches and warm eye contact. The dark haired male was honestly surprised when Malfoy closed the distance between them, bringing their lips together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    After just a second of contact, they both pulled away in shock. The world around Malfoy seemed to go fuzzy whenever he saw that Potter seemed surprised and embarrassed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I thought he wanted this? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>He doesn’t want me. I’m not his soulmate, I was an idiot to ever assume it. I need to leave. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And all too quickly, he left a wide-eyed Harry alone in the darkened hallway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>———</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     That night both boys found themselves alone in their rooms, minds completely inhabited with thoughts of the other. Malfoy was cursing himself for being such an idiot, and Harry was trying to decide exactly what was going on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Harry found himself absentmindedly staring at the flowers that trailed along his arm, looking at all the little details while he thought of what had happened a few hours previously. Before then, he’d almost forgotten about the new addition to his body, and refused to look at it. He didn’t even allow Ron or Hermione to get a peak either. It was all so confusing and overwhelming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Then, his mind wandered to the thin but soft lips that had been on his own. His head filled with the same pounding heartbeat as it had when it actually was happening. All he could hear was his own nervousness in his chest at the time. He had never kissed a boy, much less </span>
  <em>
    <span>Malfoy. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But the memory of it was vivid in his mind and drove him absolutely crazy. The way Malfoy touched his arm so delicately. The way his silver grey eyes pierced into his own. Harry even remembered the smell of soap and laundry that came off of the blonde and felt himself wishing to be enveloped in the clean scent of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      Harry cocooned himself in his blankets, wanting to hide himself from the world and just imagine he was hiding in the taller male’s arms. Of course, that’s when his pair of friends decided to make their way into the room. He could hear the sounds of their kissing and hushed whispers, and decided he better make himself known and get out of there before things got any worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The pair walked further into the room, and gasped when they saw Harry trying to wiggle his way out of the sushi roll that he had made on his bed. Then they burst into laughter. “You okay, Harry?” Ron asked, moving to help his friend out of the blankets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Yeah, peachy.” Harry replied shortly, fighting his way through several layers of fleece and other fabrics. He wasn't in the mood to be dealing with his two horny friends at the moment. He couldn’t get out of there fast enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hermione saw through his frustration, and sought to comfort him as best she could, “Harry, do you want to talk about the tattoo? I haven’t been able to find much, but I think it would be good to just discuss how you’re feeling. I know it must feel quite strange.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Finally breaking free from the blankets, Harry was absolutely floored, “I don’t want to talk about the stupid tattoo, okay? What does it even matter! It’s a good thing, right? They didn’t die in the war? I didn’t fail them the way I failed so many other people? Right? Whatever, it doesn’t even matter. I’m leaving.” Harry said, grabbing his invisibility cloak and leaving his room in a huff. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Ron and Hermione sat dumbfounded at what they just witnessed. Harry hardly ever let his emotions get the better of him, and that was probably one of the worst shows of them that either of them had seen in a long time. They knew Harry had to be having a hard time, but didn’t know what else they could do for their friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Several floors below, Malfoy sat in his room within the Slytherin dungeon. He sat with his hands in his hair, furious with himself for getting caught up in some fairy tale that was all in his head. He rolled around his bed, wanting to drink again but thinking he’d better not. There was an exam in his first class the next day, so he couldn’t afford to be late or hungover. He had to handle his problems all on his own this time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He pulled out the same box from his bedside table as he had over a week ago. He looked at each image individually, finding himself smiling back at the waving pictures of Harry Potter. Since the war, his face looked more and more like a man’s, leaving the pudgy child Malfoy once knew in the dust. Pictures of Harry in quidditch robes quickly became Malfoy’s favorites, and they garnered rather unwelcome attention from his cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The blonde cursed himself and this obsession that was starting to grow. He tried to push the thoughts away, but his mind kept coming back to the way Harry’s eyes looked just before they kissed. How gentle and delicate the kiss was, so unsure. Malfoy thought that was cute, but then remembered the feeling that Harry probably didn’t want the kiss in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Groaning, Malfoy put the box away and stood to gather a change of clothes and soaps for the shower he now had to take to get rid of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>problem</span>
  </em>
  <span> hidden underneath his robes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He decided he could probably use some release, and that these thoughts were probably just some sort of built up tension since he hadn’t even thought of having sex since before the war. His last time must have been years ago, so he decided he was just horny and frustrated and needed a break. That was until he got in the shower, and all he could picture was Potter on his knees in front of him, that delicate mouth wrapped around his own thick cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     His thumb played with his tip the way that he always did when he stroked his cock, but this time he imagined it was the dark haired boy’s tongue licking him as his head bobbed up and down. The thick steam of the shower wasn't helping, it just made him feel hotter and took away all of the male’s reasoning. When he finally came, it was onto the cold, hard bricks of the shower, and definitely not into the warm mouth where he wished that it could be. He wished he could cum all over the shorter male and make him undeniably </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Under the cover of his invisibility cloak, Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room just thinking. He knew he needed to get to bed if he ever wanted to wake up for classes, but thoughts just kept buzzing in his head. He couldn’t get his mind off of Malfoy, not even when he tried so desperately to think about something else like quidditch. He loved quidditch! How could he not just think about quidditch like he always did? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He thought about the kiss and the way that he could still feel Malfoy’s lips on his own. He wanted to feel Malfoy’s touch again. He wanted to touch Malfoy </span>
  <em>
    <span>himself</span>
  </em>
  <span>, with his own hands. The thought permeated through his mind, and soon all he could think about was the pale skin that must be hidden under Malfoy’s clothes. He shook that thought away, deciding to think about less explicit thoughts while in the common room. His mind settled on why he needed to make sure that Malfoy was okay so badly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Why had Harry let himself be so worried about Malfoy’s wellbeing? When he thought about it, he realized that his concern seemed to date back much further than the week that he thought that it had. He thought about the disappointment he felt whenever he realized that he and Malfoy didn’t share any classes this year, and even further back to whenever the war ended and all he could think about was making sure that Malfoy didn’t get thrown into Azkaban for the rest of his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     And then a realization crashed into Harry like a train, he loved Draco Malfoy. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Okay, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Malfoy admitted, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I definitely have a problem. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The blonde turned off the shower and got out to get dressed, but came to a screeching halt when he noticed something on his back in the mirror. Desperately, he wiped off the condensation from the mirror while trying to keep a hold on his towel. He turned his head over his shoulder to get a closer view and nearly let out a scream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Running from Malfoy’s shoulder all the way down to his hips were stunning gold and white lilies, busheled with their thick, pointed leaves. His face completely drained of color, realizing that he actually did have a soulmate, and they just fell in love with him. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope the last few paragraphs make sense, I know they’re kinda jumpy but I tried to clarify. Thank y’all for reading!!❤️</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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